


(Tear Me To Pieces, Skin and Bones) Hello, Welcome Home.

by pjiminshair



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Anniversary, Domestic Fluff, Episode: s07e07 The Slabside Redemption, Established Relationship, F/M, Felicity Smoak Loves Oliver Queen, Fluff, Married Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen Loves Felicity Smoak, SO MUCH FLUFF, happy one year anniversary you guys!, post 7x07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:40:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjiminshair/pseuds/pjiminshair
Summary: Oliver and Felicity spend their one year anniversary in their bed. Recovering. Healing. Loving.(pure and unadulterated fluff because that's what we deserve)She grips his shirt in her fists, buries her face in the crook of his neck till all she can smell is Oliver. “You’re not allowed to leave me again.” She tells him thickly, and knows in the moment that she’s not exactly being fair, but just for that second, she can’t bring herself to care much, “I won’t allow it, Oliver. Okay?”“Okay.” Oliver whispers in her hair, “Okay, honey. Definitely okay.”“Okay.”





	(Tear Me To Pieces, Skin and Bones) Hello, Welcome Home.

**Author's Note:**

> There wasn't a chance in hell that I wasn't going to write an anniversary fic. They're my favourite couple in the whole wide world, and I wish them all the happiness there is.
> 
> There isn't much to say about this. I like to think this will fill in some gaps between 7x07 and 7x08. I hope you guys like it. Leave a comment and give kudos (remember, kudos feed my soul)
> 
> HAPPY READING!

Oliver Queen had spent the last seven months in prison, sleeping on cold, hard cots, waking up to cracked grey walls to the sound of baton grating against the bars of his cell. Today though, today is different. Today, Oliver Queen wakes up warm, laying on something so soft it might as well be a cloud. He wakes up to blonde hair in his face, his lips pressed to the warm skin of his wife’s neck. He wakes up with his wife’s back against his chest where for the past months he’s only had a picture of his family pressed against his heart every night he slept,

And the very best part of all of it is that it’s real. He can drag his fingers down her bare arm and feel the tiny goosebumps rise against her skin, he can turn his nose into her hair and smell the lavender shampoo that she’s been consistently using for years now. He can feel her chest rise and fall against his arm, can hear her breath in and out, slow and steady, and his own breathing subconsciously mimics hers till their hearts beat in tandem.

Today, Oliver Queen wakes up in a King sized bed, wrapped around his very naked wife, with his wedding ring secure on his left hand ring finger. Today he wakes up because he’s had eight full hours of very satisfying sleep and he’s body feels both sore and well rested. They had reached the ARGUS issued safe house quite late last night, and had spent a lot of time just treating all of Oliver’s wounds both months old and the more recent ones. Neither of them had talked too much, feeling both drained and rejuvenated. They hadn’t discussed anything important, and Oliver is sure that he’s in some deep shit with his wife, but for now, Felicity just seems happy that he’s with her, and Oliver might be an idiot, but he’s not so dumb that he’ll bring up his decision to keep her in the dark about his deal before she’s ready to talk about it.

He’s especially not going to bring it up today, Oliver thinks, feeling a smile tug on his lips for the first time in months. His eyes seek out the small calendar that’s sitting on his wife’s bedside table and zero in on the date,

28th November 2018.

He’s been officially married to Felicity Smoak for a year now. 

Something primal in his chest that has been all knotted up and suffocating for months, loosens when he feels his wife wiggle against him, and he lifts off his hold on her so that she can turn towards him. Her eyes squint up at him, eyes the same clear blue he’s dreamed of all those nights his mind wasn’t consumed by nightmares (which were rare, but Oliver has cherished every single one of those nights). They light up further when she smiles at him, wide and toothy and sleepy as she brings up a hand to caress his face, lingering on his jaw. Oliver can’t help it, he kisses her, deepening it further when she sighs against his lips. Oliver has missed his wife something fierce, and whilst last night had gone a long way to reconnecting them with each other, he knows it’ll still be a long time till his able to kiss her and not feel like she’s about to disappear right in his arms, but it’s the one journey he’s definitely looking forward to taking.

Felicity hmms against his lips before pulling away, chasing the taste of his lips by licking hers, morning breath be damned. She grins up at him, scratching the delicious scruff that now covers his face, “You know, I’m really not going to miss the beard.” She scrunches her nose in mock distaste, and Oliver laughs, pulling her closer till she’s practically draped on him. The beard had been one of the first things to go after he got home. It had been a constant reminder of his time in prison, and while Oliver had gotten somewhat used to it, Felicity’s face when they’d been making out in the shower had been enough to convince him that the thing had to go.

“I love your scruff. You know that. It’s not a secret. I just… you look like you’re part of some shady biker gang, Oliver. I can’t be the wife of a gang member.” She’d told him seriously when she’d pulled away after solid 10 minutes of making out under the shower, “Not to mention, I don’t think I can pull off the kind of beard burns that thing will give me.”

Suffice to say, the first thing Oliver did after getting out of the shower was shave.

“Happy Anniversary, honey.” He says to her now, and watches, fascinated and in awe as the reminder lightens up her face,

“Happy Anniversary, Oliver.” She mutters against his lips, moving in for another kiss but they’re both smiling too widely for it to work. They’re less kissing and more just pressing their lips together, but it’s still glorious, still something that’s been terribly missed, and nothings going to stop Oliver from keeping Felicity as close to him as possible for the foreseeable future.

^_^_^_^_^_^_^

Felicity hadn’t realised how much she had missed Oliver in the kitchen till she found him next to the stove pouring in pancake mix into the hot pan after she’d gotten out of the bathroom. She’s still in his jammies, so is Oliver, they aren’t planning on going anywhere today, or anytime soon as it is, and Felicity is thankful for that. She’s going to need her husband all to herself for at least a week.

“You know we can just order something from the bakery down the street, don’t you? You don’t have to cook.” She tells her husband. After all, he did just come home yesterday.

“I don’t mind.” He smiles at her over his shoulder, “In fact, I prefer it this way. I like cooking for you.” He says, eyes still on hers even as he flips the pancake mid air, a smug little smirk on his face. Oliver’s always been unashamedly proud of his skills in the kitchen, and Felicity loves that he has something he loves to do that he can show off proudly to whoever will see and appreciate it.

Doesn’t mean she’ll let him act all smug about it though. She narrows her eyes, crosses her arms over her chest all the while glaring playfully, “You know, I can make a somewhat decent omelette now.”

Oliver snorts, “Somewhat decent? Honey, you and I both know that my breakfast has a much higher bar than ‘somewhat decent’.” Felicity walks over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist and he places a kiss on her head, “You still have a long way to go, my young padawan.” He tells her seriously. And Felicity bursts out laughing, both at his tone and the mental image that her brain produces of Oliver decked out in jedi robes, flipping pancakes.

God, it feels good to laugh. She can’t remember the last time she felt so light. And then she does, it was just after they defeated the Nazis from Earth X that had wanted to rule their earth, just after she had made the best split second decision of her entire life and asked the man nestled in her arms to marry her, just after he had said ‘yes’ and they both had said their not-vows vows and become husband and wife.

The last time she had been so happy, it had been on the same day as today, exactly a year before.

^_^_^_^_^_^_^

Oliver and Felicity have their breakfast back in their bed because the apartment doesn’t really have a dining table and because their bed is too warm and comfortable to sit anywhere else. She can’t help but notice how their breakfast is so much more calorie heavy and a lot less nutrient rich that what Oliver usually makes, and can’t help but be happy that he’s indulging after months of living on god knows what.

She can’t bring herself to think about the prison too deeply. Not today, not when it’s so fresh in both of their hearts and their memories.

Felicity moans after taking a bite. She can’t help it. Oliver’s cooking is phenomenal, and her semi-decent omelette doesn’t even hold a candle against it. Oliver smiles into his plate at her reaction, and just for him, Felicity exaggerates her appreciation for the food throughout breakfast, moaning and groaning promising marriage to his pancakes, and by the time her plate is empty, Oliver’s in stitches and holding on to her jaw to place kisses all over her face,

“I love you. Felicity, I love you so much.” She doesn’t know where the tears come from. Two seconds ago she was acting like a complete moron to make her husband laugh, and now she’s choking up. It’s ridiculous. It’s liberating.

“I love you too. More than anything.”

^_^_^_^_^_^_^

Felicity starts telling him about all that he’s missed around early afternoon. She keeps the topics light of course. Neither of them have healed enough together to face confrontations of any kind yet. It’s the middle of the day and they’re still in the bed, laying on their sides so that they’re facing each other, making sure that at least some part of them is in constant contact. They haven’t really stopped touching each other since they woke up. 

She tells him little things. Like how she worked as a barista when she was in witness protection, how she had tried to learn to cook, but most mornings it was still William who ended up making them breakfast.

She tells him little things. Like how she’s so,  _ so _ proud of their son, because no matter what life has thrown at him ( _ and Oh God, he’s gone through so much, her boy _ ), he’s still handled everything with so much strength, such tenacity and he’s conquered everything. He’s excelled, both in school and otherwise, while having to adjust to losing his father, moving to a new place, getting a new identity.

She tells him little things. Like how she had started to teach William how to code, because he’s always been so fascinated whenever he sees her at work, and how they always had dinner together, almost always the conversation leading to Oliver. About how much they missed him, about how much they wanted him back, about how much better Oliver would’ve made whatever it was they were eating that night-

By them time she’s done, Oliver’s looking at her as if he’s looking at her for the first time. He’s smiling but tears are falling down his cheeks; he hates how much he’s missed, but loves how much closer it’s brought Felicity and William to each other. He’s a mess of conflicted emotions, loving everything about the family he’s managed to make for himself and regretting the decision he made all those months ago which doesn’t even seem worth it anymore. He wasn’t there was his wife and child. Wasn’t there to provide for them. Wasn’t there to protect them.

What kind of man does that make him?

“You’re a good person, Oliver.” Felicity says in the silence that settles over them. As always, she can read him like an open book. Can figure him out like she figures out new pieces of code. Oliver is so  _ so _ grateful for her. He doesn’t understand what he did to deserve her. He doesn’t know what he would do without her. Felicity sighs, shuffles closer till they’re joined together from shoulder to chest to hip to knee, and yet Oliver still pulls her closer. Wants to sink into her till their souls meld so that they can never be apart again, “You’re a good man, Oliver Queen.” She continues, in that same tone of voice that’s been ingrained in Oliver mind over the years to never argue with. Whenever Felicity’s speaking in that tone of voice, she’s spouting out facts, saying things she believes within the very inch of her core to be the truth, “But, much more than that, you’re the right person for me. And the right father for William.”

“You’re biased.” He says, teasing softly even as he clears his throat to lift up the gloomy mood that’s settled over them. This won’t do. Today’s their one year anniversary, and even though they haven’t spent every day together (on the contrary, much of their first year, they’ve spent apart from each other) it’s still supposed to be a happy day. A celebratory day.

“Of course I am. You’re my husband. Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” She gives him a cheeky little wink (Felicity can’t wink. At best, she does this little eye-twitch nose-scrunch thing that makes Oliver fall in love with her even more) and Oliver’s more than happy to respond to it with an equally cheeky smile,

“No, it doesn’t.” He agrees, and then looks at the bedside table at the clock sitting there to find that they’ve completely missed lunch time and that it’s already time for supper. “What do you want for dinner, hun?”

Felicity raises her brow, “Oliver, I think after seven months, you get to decide what we eat for dinner.”

Oliver doesn’t argue. Instead, he stares at her for a long time, recalls all her little tells as if they’ve been carved into the back of his mind. He knows they didn’t have lunch, so she’s hungry. He knows she’s recently had pizza from the empty boxes that he saw in the bin . He knows that it’s wednesday and there’s a discount at Big Belly and Felicity’s always been all about cheap food that makes her feel good.

“How about Big Belly?” Felicity smiles, that little knowing smile that tells him she knows exactly what he just did.

“It’s like you can read minds, honey.” She teases him, and he plays along, proud that even after all this time apart, he still knows his wife so well. She’s not the only one who can read the other like a book after all.

“Well, I  _ am _ the right man for you.” He parrots her words back, tries to believe them, and she bites her lip to quell in her grin, softly running her hands through his hair,

“Yeah, you are.”

^_^_^_^_^_^_^

They watch TV while they eat. They’ve finally moved out of the bed only to have settled on the couch. There are reruns of Sponge Bob Square Pants playing softly in the background while they munch on their fries and share a coke. It reminds Felicity of those days when they’d just come back to Star City, leaving behind the life they had built for themselves in Ivy Town. They had spent all their free evenings like this then. Vegging out on the couch whenever Oliver was too tired to cook, watching something ridiculously simple on the TV (Oliver had been very partial to Power Puff Girls much to Felicity’s delight). Then, they’d talked about date nights and future family dinners with the rest of the team. Now? well now there conversations are much different,

“When should we bring William back home, you think?” Oliver asks her, as he throws their rubbish in the delivery bag on the floor,

“Well, his semester ends in a month, Maybe then?” Felicity raises a brow at Oliver, “Also, getting a home before bringing William home might also be a good idea.”

“About that.” Oliver frowns, “This place hardly looks lived in. Where were you staying before?” He asks, trying to keep the question vague. They haven’t really explicitly mentioned the prison yet. That discussion can wait till it’s not their anniversary. 

“On Rene’s couch, actually.” Oliver chokes on his coke at that answer. Felicity rolls her eyes even as she rubs his back firmly till he stops coughing, “It’s not that big of a deal, Oliver. It wasn’t a bad couch.”

“Felicity, you spent the last two months on a couch.” He states.

“I know. I was there.” At Oliver’s deadpan look, Felicity sighs, and explains further, “Look, you were in prison. And I had to send William away to cambridge to keep him safe from Diaz. The last thing on my mind at the time was where I was going to sleep. Even if I had gone apartment hunting, it wasn’t like I was going to spent much time there anyway.”

Oliver’s eyes soften immediately, “I’m sorry. I know that it's not enough, but I am. And I know how strong you’ve had to be these past months, Felicity. You’re the strongest person I know. And I promise, we’ll go house hunting together tomorrow if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“I would like to have a home again with you, yeah.” She sniffles, and in a second, she’s cocooned in his arms. This is one of the things she’s missed the most, Felicity thinks. This constant source of support that is her husband. She can be as weak as she wants to be in front of him, because he’ll prop her up. He won’t let her fall. She trusts him implicitly, and living without that trust has been one of the most difficult things she’s had to do.

She wasn’t lying, she wasn’t exaggerating when she told him them losing him was her worst nightmare. She doesn’t ever want to live without him again. 

She grips his shirt in her fists, buries her face in the crook of his neck till all she can smell is Oliver. “You’re not allowed to leave me again.” She tells him thickly, and knows in the moment that she’s not exactly being fair, but just for that second, she can’t bring herself to care much, “I won’t allow it, Oliver. Okay?”

“Okay.” Oliver whispers in her hair, “Okay, honey. Definitely okay.”

“Okay.”

^_^_^_^_^_^_^

It’s an hour and a half later, and they’re once again lying in bed. This has been by far the least productive day in either of their lives, but at the same time, it had also been necessary. They’ve healed a little bit more. They’ve reconnected. They’ve still got a long way to go to where they were before, Felicity’s not sure if they’ll ever be able to go back to before. She’s changed too much, they both have. But, she’s also sure, that wherever they end up at the end of this journey, it’s going to be at the same place. Together.

“It was a good anniversary.” Oliver mumbles in her hair, on the verge of sleep. Felicity hmms,

“Yes, it was. Happy one year, baby.”

“Happy one year, honey.”

**Author's Note:**

> The one-shot was named after Billie Eilish's song Lovely ft.Khalid. 
> 
> As always, to know when I'm going to post new material, or if you just want to talk, find me on twitter @in_enochian and on tumblr @inenochian
> 
> -ms


End file.
